Damian’s smile grew, a wolfish grin that revealed his sharp, white teeth. “Oh, you know what I want,” he said, his eyes traveling over her body like a predator sizing up its prey. “Your mother was quite insistent that you be… broken in properly.”
The words were a punch to Aurora’s gut, but she kept her chin up. “I’m not going to let you do this to me,” she said, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to remain firm.
Damian chuckled darkly, rising from the bed to tower over her. “You think you have a choice?” He grabbed her wrist, his grip like iron, and yanked her towards the bed. Aurora stumbled but managed to stay on her feet, her eyes flashing with anger and defiance.
“I always have a choice,” Aurora spat, trying to pull away. His smile grew wider, his grip tightening until she could feel the bones in her wrist grind together.
“Is that so?” he murmured, his breath hot on her neck as he bent down to whisper in her ear. “Let’s see how much of a choice you have.”
With a swift movement, he pushed Aurora onto the bed, the velvet comforter soft against her bare skin. She struggled, but his strength was overwhelming. He pinned her down, his body pressing into hers, making her aware of every inch of his hardened muscles and the unyielding desire beneath his zipped trousers. Aurora’s eyes widened in horror as she realized she was about to be defiled by the very man her mother had sold her to.
“Where did you get this strength, Aurora?” Damian murmured, his voice a dark caress in her ear. His hands moved to her dress, tearing it open with a violent rip. The sound of fabric giving way echoed through the room, a stark contrast to the quiet determination in Aurora’s voice. “I got it from the same place you get your cruelty,” she spat back at him. “From the need to survive.”
He chuckled again, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. “Survive, or fight?” he asked, his breath hot against her neck as he pulled the remnants of her dress away from her body. Aurora could feel the heat of his desire, could see the hunger in his eyes as he took in her bare flesh. But she refused to cower, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
“Both,” she said, her voice trembling only slightly. “I will survive, and I will fight. Every single day.”
Damian leaned over her, his gaze intense. “You think your spirit can withstand me?” He traced a finger down her cheek, the touch sending a shiver through her body despite her resolve.
“You have no idea,” Aurora replied, her eyes never leaving his. She felt a strange mix of fear and anger-fear of the unknown, anger at her mother’s betrayal, and a burning determination to not let this monster win.
Damian leaned closer, his breath hot against her cheek as he whispered, “We’ll see about that.” His hands slid from her wrists to her neck, his thumbs caressing the delicate skin before tightening, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp.
Aurora felt a surge of panic, but she didn’t give in. She glared up at him, her eyes filled with a fiery determination that surprised even herself. “You can try,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, but the challenge was clear.
Damian’s grip tightened, his thumbs pressing slightly into her neck. She could feel the blood pulsing beneath his touch, the veins in her neck standing out as she struggled to breathe. But she didn’t flinch, didn’t show any outward sign of fear. Instead, she stared back at him, her gaze unyielding.
“You’re a feisty one,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with lust. “But I don’t have the patience for games. You should have given in when you had the chance.”
Aurora felt the pressure on her neck increase, and she knew that she was playing a dangerous game. But she was determined not to let fear dictate her actions. “What makes you think I’ll give in now?” she managed to say, her voice strained but steady.
Damian didn’t answer her question. Instead, he stood up from the bed, not saying a word as he unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to the floor. He then took off his shirt, revealing his powerful, tattooed body. The air in the room grew thick with tension as he stepped closer, his bare skin brushing against hers. Aurora’s eyes darted to the door, but she knew there was no escape. The guard had left them alone, ensuring she had no way out.
His movements were deliberate and methodical, as if he enjoyed the anticipation of the moment. She could see his arousal, thick and heavy, and it made her stomach turn. But she remained still, her eyes locked on his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. “You see, Aurora,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I don’t need your permission for this. I own you, body and soul. Whether you like it or not.”